celebrate it." It seemed formal and regular, and was signed "Bagot Lee." He read it over three or four times before he seemed to catch the meaning, though the wording was clear enough; then, laying it on the table, he rose and turned away to the window.

This, then, had been the cause of her altered treatment of him-she was engaged to Sloperton! The occasional relentings which he (soft fool as he was!) had set down to a far different cause, were mere glimpses of repentance from a consciousness that she had given him encouragement, led him on merely to trifle with him, while giving herself to another. Yes; it was the last solution he should ever have reached unassisted, but now it was clear as noonday.

Well! he had been a fool, an idiot, this once, but it should be the last time. He would never again give a woman the power so to wound him. And yet how could he ever have guessed that she, Hester Lee (here her ladyship's noble, thoughtful face rose plainly before him)-how could he ever have guessed that she, of all women, would ever have been caught by the fair outside of such a man as Sloperton? And was a woman who could be so caught worthy of another thought from him?-no, he would cast her idea from his memory. An excellent and valiant resolution, Captain Fane-only so hard to keep.

Suddenly there came crowding upon him a vast number of memories of smiles, of kind words, of glances; nay, the spirit of whole interviews and conversations, distilled, as it were, into a moment's space, flashed vividly across him, till he was bewildered by the recollections he had unconsciously stored up. He was roused from the contemplation of these by the voice of Sloperton.

"By the by, my dear fellow," began the Captain, and then abruptly stopt, for Fane, turning suddenly at his voice, cast on him a glance that warned Sloperton he had better not trifle with him just now. Fane made no attempt to affect indifference: what did he care for the exultation of a man he despised?-why should he trouble himself to assume a disguise? what would have mattered to him just

then the opinions of the whole world, or the eyes of the whole world? He strode, without speaking, across the apartment, and passed into his sleeping-room. Sloperton, watching him, felt half sorry when he saw how strong was the emotion he had succeeded in creating. "He is hit rather hard," he said to himself. "Really 'tis a pity we both fancied the same woman. If I had thought he'd have taken it to heart so, I almost think I should have let him make the discovery for himself."

He heard Fane tell his servant, in a voice of forced steadiness, to finish the packing of his portmanteau immediately. He would go, not by the afternoon coach, but by the first one, which would pass in half an hour.

At this, Sloperton, leaving the room, descended to the street. Lounging there for a few minutes, he saw Fane's servant come down and tell the groom to lead his master's horse back to the stable. Satisfied that he had thus put an effectual stop to the projected visit, he then repaired to his lodgings.

These being situated near the hotel, he heard the coach drive up to the Bush, he saw the fresh horses, with their clothes on, pass up the street to be harnessed to it, and waited at the window till the sound of the bugle and the rumble of the wheels told him it had started. On the box-seat sat Fane, his hat pulled down far on his forehead. Sloperton stood at the window ready to catch his eye and wave his hand to him, feeling quite benevolently disposed, just then, toward his defeated rival; but Fane did not look right or left.

"Come," said Sloperton to himself, "'tis better he's gone-it prevents bother and confusion. And, really, 'tis something to be proud of to cut out a fellow like that-I shall think the better of myself for it;" which, however, would have been quite superfluous, if not impossible.

Fane, mean time, as he left Doddington behind him, was resolute to root the memory of Lady Lee from his mind. It was thrust out at one point only to enter at another. It was suggested incessantly by thoughts apparently the most foreign to it. He tried to talk to the coachman, and to

attend to his remarks; the coachman, knowing he was talking to what he was pleased to call "a cavalry gent," immediately began to enlarge on the merits of the grey filly that officiated as his off-leader. The grey filly instantly suggested Diana, and the transition from Diana to her fair mistress was short and easy. Then he asked about the different country-seats they passed-but he remembered to

have seen pictures of most of them in a history of the county in the library at the Heronry-and he thought of her who was then perhaps seated in that library, till he was enraged at the complacency with which he still dwelt on the image. It started up from all manner of odd corners and nooks of his mind-put by there, just as a miser hides some of his guineas in a teapot or an old stocking.

If Fane had been nervous and auxious that morning, Lady Lee had been far more so. Absence of mind-incoherent replies-starts as the door opened, and quick anxious glances towards it, all told the observant Rosa who was expected. Therefore, soon after breakfast, Rosa coaxed Orelia out for a walk, leaving her ladyship alone in the library.

Eleven o'clock came-the earliest hour at which she thought it probable Fane would come. A book was open on the table before her, but she had read the same page over about fifty times, with no more idea of the meaning of it on the fifty-first reading than before she commenced. Every noise in the hall made her start-once a step was heard which, though as unlike Fane's as it well could be, she persisted in believing must be his: it was short, quick, and apparently advancing at a run, and was followed by an impatient and ineffectual fumbling at the handle of the door, lasting for upwards of a minute, when the door opened, and the mountain was delivered of that very ridiculous mouse Julius. This young gentleman was very abruptly dismissed, and shortly afterwards a more manly step was heard it was the footman with some stupid message-how she hated the man!-people must create these false alarms merely to annoy her-and yet even these were preferable, she thought, to unbroken expectation.

Twenty times in a quarter of an hour she looked at her watch-as often at the little gold clock which two ivory angels held between them on the mantelpiece-twenty times she applied herself anew to her page, and read it over without the faintest con

ception of what it was about. She was thinking, all the time, of the explanation she should give Fane-how she could best screen Bagot, and how soften his apparent hatred of Fane, till it should appear only a mere whimsical prejudice. For though, since their late nocturnal interview, her indifference for the Colonel had been converted into positive dislike, yet she somehow wished to throw the conduct of her relation into as favourable a light as it would admit of.

She wondered how Fane would take what she had to tell him-whether he would listen to reason-whether he would attempt to argue, or submit at once to what was inevitable-or (but this thought was only allowed to flit dimly across her mind, and was never fairly brought up for inspection)-or whether he would suggest any mode of appeasing Bagot.

Twelve o'clock came-this suspense was hard to bear! A nervous flush had fixed itself on her cheek-she felt a strong impulse to start from her chair and hurry to the window, or out of the room, or anywhere, for a moment's change, but sat still nevertheless. Half-past twelve: an embroidery frame was near her-she resolved to do a certain number of stitches, and then go to the window: she did so; went to the window, loitered there, and returned to do some more stitches, this time increasing the number by ten. This got over the time till one o'clock; and, shortly after, her ear caught the tramp of a horse on the gravel. It would have been easy to go to the window and see who this was, but she couldn't do it; because it might not be him, after all, and she wished to prolong her hope. The

horse stopped at the southern entrance; Fane usually dismounted there. She heard the servant go to the door-what could he mean by going so slowly-why didn't the creature run? She heard him precede the visitor along the hall-they reached the door of the library-it was opened, and she put her hand before her eyes, bending them on her embroidery, and stooped forward to conceal her flutter; and the servant, in a perfectly calm and equable tone, announced-Captain Sloperton.

The Captain entered with rather more than the usual amount of melancholy sweetness in his aspect. He saw her start at his name-he saw the deep flush on her face turn to unusual paleness as he approached-he felt her hand tremble as he took it, and noticed, too, a tremor in her voice. And the Captain, in the plenitude of his pride and power, felt a mixture of exultation and pity in the thought that his presence could occasion such decided and interesting emotion. She had concealed her feelings cleverly enough hitherto-but he had known -yes, he had been perfectly certain, even before that jewel of a girl, Fillett, had told him the true state of affairs -that Lady Lee couldn't keep up the farce long gad, sir, he had half a mind to punish her hypocrisy by affecting indifference in his turn-'twould serve her right; but no, he would strike while the iron was hot, and while he was flushed with his success at having got rid of Fane; yes, he would push his advantage at once, and settle the business.

:

Never had the Captain's voice been more softly seductive, or his eyes more expressive, than when, gently pressing Lady Lee's hand, and retaining it as long as he was allowed (which wasn't very long), he said, "How is my fair cousin to-day ?" The Captain was fond of alluding to the relationship-it gave him the right to appear a little more intimate than others; and while taking a chair near her, and placing his hat on the table, he continued to regard her with a sad, serious air, which he did not doubt was inexpressibly affecting.

She felt dreadfully impatient: first, there was the disappointment; next, the Captain's leisurely manner indi

Icated that his visit might not be a short one; and, if Fane should come while he was here, the opportunity so watched and longed for might be lost. But that must not be; she would be as cold to Captain Sloperton as possible-even uncivil, if necessary, rather than suffer the chance of that. Nothing could well be farther from the thoughts of the ill-starred Sloperton than the idea that his presence was unwelcome. "I'll give her a little time to collect herself, poor thing," he thought-so he said aloud, motioning gracefully towards the open book on the table, "May I ask the subject of your studies?"

Lady Lee took the book from the table, and handed it to him for an

swer.

"Ah,-Corinne," he said; "a lovetale. Do you know," said the Captain, turning towards her with charming confidence, “do you know, I'm so glad you've been reading a love-tale. If I had been asked by any one on my road hither, How would you like to find your cousin employed? I should have answered, By all means in reading Corinne."

Still a little fluttered," thought the Captain, glancing at her, as she bit her lip and made a slight gesture of impatience.

"I am enchanted, too, at finding you alone," went on Sloperton. "Your two young friends are charming girls, my dear cousin, yet I should never have forgiven their presence to-day."

Lady Lee turned her face quickly towards him with a look of surprisesnatching at the same moment her hand (which he offered to take) hastily away.

The Captain was not the best-tempered man in the world-" Really," he said, affecting to smile, while he turned scarlet with anger-"really, if you are so cruel, I shall be driven to imitate our friend Fane, who went by the coach this morning."

Went by the coach, this morning! He was gone, then-she should not see him, and there would be no explanation. Unkind, not to give her one chance of doing herself justice! She wished her visitor would leave her that she might cry.

Such were her thoughts ;-but Sloperton, doomed to accumulate upon his

devoted head, that morning, the largest amount of her displeasure that his evil genius could procure him, misinterpreted her silence and agitation. He thought her emotion proceeded from his threat of leaving her.

"You must not always take me at my word," he said, smiling more enchantingly than ever. "Do you not know-are you not now in your heart perfectly convinced that it would be utterly impossible for me to leave you? What has brought me so constantly to the Heronry but my inability to exist except in your presence? What brings me here now, except to declare the fact? My dear cousin!may I hope that title will soon be exchanged for a nearer one?"

Nothing could exceed the calm confidence with which the Captain uttered this speech. He spoke it as if it were a mere matter of form, rendered necessary by female prejudice, but insignificant in itself. Lady Lee rose from her chair, and seemed to her astounded wooer to look down upon him from an immeasurable height, while she addressed him.

"And your intention in coming here to-day," she said, "was really, then, to make this declaration?"

The Captain, utterly confounded by her look and voice, only replied by a bow, laying, at the same time, his hand upon his heart, with some diminution of his customary grace.

She was too vexed to be sarcastic, or perhaps his rejection might have been conveyed with some little scorn of language as well as of look. And, indeed, it was not without difficulty that she repressed her impatience at being, at such a juncture, fooled with the very counterfeit and caricature of passion.

So she repeated, "And you really came here to say this!"

"Is it so very incredible?" asked the Captain, beginning to feel an uneasy doubt as to his ultimate success. "I hear it with pain and surprise," she said. "The idea is so new that it startles me."

"Compose yourself," said the Captain, soothingly. "However charming it might be to hear your consent uttered in words, I would not distress you for the world. Let silence convey it."

"No," said Lady Lee-"no! I must not leave you in doubt. I must not leave any opening for a renewal of the subject. I thank you, but it is impossible.'

Sloperton stretched out his hand towards hers. He had a whole battery of arguments and looks and sighs in reserve. But she drew back from him hastily.

"You must not persist," she said, in a severe tone; "I am altogether in earnest.' This, however, the infatuated wooer could not believe. "Ah!" he thought, "I've been a little too abrupt, and that's what makes her restive;-women like a touch of sentiment in these matters."

"My plainness," said he, "has offended you, but 'twas all owing to the sincerity of my passion" (Lady Lee's lip curled at the word). Pray ascribe it to that," he went on," and believe that I am filled with the most rapturous sensations, though I have perhaps failed to express them. Oh, yes!" said the Captain, sliding from his chair on to one knee, laying his hand on his heart, and speaking in musical and plaintive tones, most rapturous-the most devotedthe most unchangeable-the--the "

the

"Spare your eloquence, sir," said Lady Lee. "Believe me, it will not avail. How long," she added, changing her tone from contempt to anger, as she saw him prepare to renew his protestations-"how long will your ingenious vanity continue to mislead you? Ask yourself, sir, what share it has had in your mistake and your discomfiture; and forgive me if I convince you of my sincerity by leaving you." So saying, she swept from the room with a swift, impatient step.

For a moment Sloperton remained on his knee, gazing after her with a countenance which, though both sad and serious, did not present its usual combination of those elements of expression. There was a very genuine look of astonishment and mortification in his eyes and half-opened mouth— the latter showing a little dark aperture under the mustache. Was he dreaming? Was it, indeed, true that he, Cecil Sloperton, whose conquering motto was brief as Cæsar's, had been, not merely rejected, which of itself

seemed impossible enough, but rejected with scorn?

Very pale, and with a numb, tingling sensation, he gathered up his hat, gloves, and cane, and went out into the hall. A servant stepped forward to let him out: he dared not look at the man-what if the fellow had been listening, and heard Lady Lee's rejection of him! He almost fancied he detected derision in the man's face and attitude as he held open the door for him-nay, the very groom who held his bridle and stirrup seemed, to his jealous sensitiveness, to be struggling with some secret joke-at his expense, of course.

As he rode away, the scene began to re-enact itself in his mind. The Captain's feminine vanity, thus sharply wounded, shrieked out like Venus, when she felt the spear of Diomed. He cursed the whole household-he cursed himself-he cursed Bagot, who had got the money which he, Sloperton, had so sagaciously and thriftily invested in the purchase of his own great mortification. No doubt (he said to himself) Bagot knew what the result would be when he inveigled him into the bargain-no doubt he was at this moment laughing at him for a fool! And, truly, Bagot might, with great propriety, have applied to him the words of Falstaff, "Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pounds."

The

Such were the thoughts that accompanied him in his homeward ride to his lodgings. He lodged in the main street of Doddington, with an ancient widow, retired from business. ancient widow had a niece, Miss Finkle, small, pale, and attenuated, and who, owing partly to these accidents of nature, partly to an acidity of temper, had, contrary to her own wish, remained unmarried, though some time past her youth. It would have been better for this damsel's comfort, both of body and mind, had the Captain never come to lodge there, for she not only fell, as a matter of course, hopelessly and distractedly in love with him, but, with a hope of appearing to the best advantage in his eyes, wore such tight shoes and dresses that she could scarcely either walk or breathe, and was raBy reducing herself to the condition

of a consumptive cripple. She had been hitherto decidedly unpopular with her neighbours, whom she had frequently exasperated by her acerbities; but the sentiments of many of her young female acquaintances appeared to have undergone of late a magical change in her favour. They became assiduous in their visits, and, setting at nought the little defects which had formerly offended them in Miss Finkle's deportment, they were running in and out all day long, on the speculation of meeting the Captain on the stairs; and when that desired event took place, they would, according to their several dispositions, either pass him with an air of austere and virtuous unconsciousness, or turn their backs, and run off giggling.

Some of these admiring nymphs had assembled in Miss Finkle's sittingroom to catch a glimpse of the returning Adonis.

"He's coming, Maria!" said Miss Tiddy, a short, plump girl, thrusting herself between Miss Brown and Miss Simpson, who monopolised the window.

"Well, you needn't push me, dear, if he is!" said Miss Simpson, snappishly for her nose had been unbecomingly flattened against the window by Miss Tiddy's onset.

"Isn't he lovely?" murmured Miss Nopetty, a slender damsel with languishing black eyes, whose father kept a circulating library. "He's the imidge of Lord Reginald de Courcy in the Perils of Passion.""

Miss Finkle had kept away from the window that she might be ready to run down and open the door to the Captain.

"If I did admire him, I'd die before I'd show it so much," she said, with virtuous indignation, to Miss Nopetty, who had got on a chair to look out of the window over the heads of her friends. "Do get off the chair, Hemma-I wonder you ain't ashamed." This snub was ungracious, to say the least, for Miss Nopetty had lately been beaten by her father for bringing novels surreptitiously to Miss Finkle, gratis, out of pure friendship.

"For my part, I wonder what you all see in the man," said grim Miss Brown, who had been watching at the window longer than any of them,